Despite the Very Late Hour
by prophetoftroy
Summary: It's late and Hermione just wants to read. The other occupants of Grimmauld Place just want any reason to celebrate, to smile. Fred just wants to kiss Hermione.


Hermione sighed; the sort of sigh that was something of a cross between annoyed, wistful, and longing. She was trying to study, reading her Arithmancy text while a party raged- with no one caring that she was falling behind on her very set summer reading schedule. She sat curled in the armchair in the corner with the large tome in her lap, trying to read and at the same time being incredibly distracted by the surrounding merriment.

It was Harry's birthday; his first with Sirius _since _his first- the animagus was quick to remind everyone- and the whole of Grimmauld Place was in the celebrational swing. Maybe that was why Harry hadn't argued against them making such a fuss for his birthday, knowing how much everyone needed an excuse to relax. Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen, baking and drinking with a few other women from the Order despite the very late hour. Ginny and Tonks were laughing about something over by Sirius' old record player, having put themselves in charge of the music despite the very late hour. Harry and Ron were playing chess by the fire, arguing good naturedly more than actually playing with Remus occasionally interjecting. Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Weasley were drinking and, at present, discussing quantum physics- though Hermione _really _had no idea where _that _had come from.

And in the center of the room, despite the very late hour, were Fred and George making up dance steps and singing along loudly to songs they had obviously never heard before, and didn't know any of the lyrics to.

That was what had Hermione so preoccupied and unable to read. She'd try to, but every few seconds would glance up in time to catch the light from the fireplace on Fred's wild grin. It wasn't _really _that she could tell them apart. Looking at their features, there was no real difference between them, but looking at Fred made Hermione pulse thrum in a way that looking at George did not. She couldn't help but look over every time he spoke or laughed; and Fred was _always _laughing. It was just one of the many things she admired about him- another reason being the way he made everyone else around him smile too.

Most of Sirius' record collection was Muggle rock, and though he had plenty of Wizarding records as well, it was the Muggle that Ginny and Tonks seemed interested in playing; something Hermione surprisingly appreciated greatly. They both took turns spinning with the twins, with Harry and Ron joining them every other song, and everyone having a wonderful time in general. She kept telling herself to go to the library, or maybe to the room she was sharing with Ginny- knowing she would never get any reading done watching Fred all night. However, she didn't _really _want to go.

The song changed, slower; a Kiss song titled '_Beth'_. Hermione was familiar and fond, glancing up in time to watch the smiles fall strangely, the lights dim, and the atmosphere change. Fred and George fell onto the loveseat softly, disarmed by the soft, opening bars of the song.

"This was Lily's favorite," Sirius said to no one in particular, sounding suddenly sober. And sad.

"Really?" Harry asked quietly. The whole room was quiet now, everyone listening as though they'd been caught in a spell. Hermione gently closed her book, also caught in the inexplicable need to listen.

Remus answered for Sirius, but both of their faces were red. "She said it made her think of staying up late waiting for us to come back from our Order missions."

"Or James and I from raids when we were Aurors," Sirius whispered. "It didn't matter how late we were gone, if we were coming back at dawn she'd be there at the table with food waiting for us- having already made up the spare beds so we didn't have to make the trip to our own places."

Remus laughed, a sad, humorless laugh. "She was a terrible cook, but she could have almost out-baked Molly. There were would be cakes, and biscuits, and pastries."

"We didn't deserve her."

No one said anything for a few minutes until the end of the song when Sirius stood up, his eyes glassy and his voice like gravel. "I think I'll turn in."

Remus stood up as well after watching his friend leave. "It _is _late. I could use the sleep with the moon so close. Happy Birthday, Harry."

Harry waited until Remus was gone as well, everyone still seemingly frozen, before he said very quietly, and with the smallest hint of raw desperation, "Play it again."

The song started again, but the spell was broken and Hermione could breathe again. She looked down at her book when a shadow fell over her. When she lifted her head again, Fred was standing there with an outstretched hand and that charming half smile she adored.

"Wanna dance?"

*

Fred had been watching her all evening, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it- watching her pretend she wasn't also watching him. It was endearing.

He didn't think there was a soul who could ignore Hermione was growing into herself, not after the grand entrance at the Yule Ball. He'd always found her cute, always found her interesting, but there was something about her entrance that made the entire school take a collective breath of appreciation. It made Hogwarts notice her in the way he already had. Maybe that made him superficial.

Hermione had beautiful, teasing lips. Every spin, he found his eyes drawn to them- the palest of pinks with the slightest shine of her lip balm. He doubted she knew, but her lips moved to whatever she was reading, tracing the words as her mind read them. Then she would draw the inside of her lip in and gnaw on it for a split second before she looked up under eyelashes to spy on him. It was a struggle to tear his eyes away from them so she wouldn't know he was looking.

He bet they were soft. Hermione was soft, her skin, her hair, why not her lips? Fred wanted to kiss them.

"Wanna dance?"

At first she looked stunned, then she had that hardness in her soft brown eyes that meant she would refuse. She opened her mouth to, but close it again when he raised his eyebrows at her in a sort of secret dare.

Fred and George had yet to come across a fellow Gryffindor that could turn down a dare, voiced plain or not, and the acknowledged princess of Gryffindor herself was no exception.

Hermione let out something of a sigh and placed her hand in Fred's, standing to follow him to the center of the room where he'd danced with his brother. Her hand was very soft, with soft, lotioned callouses from the way she held her quill. She let out another sharply caught breath when he pulled her to him, chest to chest, and he was sure she didn't realize how her pupils always dilated when they were close. He was sure his did the same.

Dancing with Hermione wasn't like dancing with George, or Ginny, or even Tonks. With Hermione, it was comfortable in a way he was sure he'd never been or would never be again. He had a fleeting moment of jealousy at the amount of times she hugged Harry and Ron, and how left out that made him.

She was nervous. He could see it on her face and feel it in her heartbeat. She wasn't looking at him, at his face, and instead her eyes were trained at his where his neck met his chest.

Fred could hear her breathing, could hear his, and was all too aware of everyone else in the room watching them.

"Hermione," he whispered.

She moved her head carefully, slightly, and her brown eyes met his blue and flashed just the smallest amount. "Fred."

His chest spiked at watching her lips form his name. The chapstick was all but gone she'd worried her lips so much, with so much going on in her head. His favorite thing was watching the thoughts form, watching her frown as she connected the pieces of a mystery, and even more than that he loved the way her nose twitched when she was having trouble.

Like a bunny.

Like now.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he whispered.

Hermione stopped breathing and her eyes widened, darting down to his lips and back to his eyes. "Okay."

He lowered his head, and she raised herself to her tiptoes, and he was right. Her lips were incredibly soft, impossibly so, and she'd gnawed all of her lip balm away. The song was ending, and they'd stopped dancing, but their lips didn't.

Fred lifted his hands to hold her face carefully, and her hands grabbed his shirt at his waist- innocently staying there. When they pulled away, her face was flushed and he was sure his was no different.

"Perhaps we could stop pretending like we don't fancy each other then?"

Hermione chuckled, her charming laugh that always sounded breathless, or like she didn't want anyone to know she was laughing at all. "That sounds like a good plan."

"I'm known to come up with them sometimes."

She pulled his face down to hers again in a bold move that surprised him, kissing him again and pulling away. He could see on her face the moment she noticed everyone watching them, reddening even further.

"It's about time," Ginny scoffed.

"You _think_?" George asked incredulously. "I've been waiting for this for two years."

Harry mumbled, moving one of his castles. "Thought they'd _never _get it over with."

Fred gazed into Hermione's eyes, looking for any sign of retreat- any hint she might be rethinking it or regretting it- and was pleased that there were none to find. Instead there was a spark of mischief he saw too seldom, and a somewhat loopy grin.

"Dance with me?" She asked, sounding breathless.

Despite the very late hour, he did.

A/N: This is the very first fic I've written for my OTP, and I made the cover myself. I'm actually just happy with it in general. Please let me know what you think. I've taken quite the hiatus, but I'm slowly working my way back. I will be reviewing my whole profile, and will probably be deleting WIP's that I know I'm unlikely to continue. Thank you so much for reading this!

Cassie.


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